


Sleep When I'm Dead

by Cottonstones



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-22
Updated: 2012-06-22
Packaged: 2017-11-08 07:02:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/440458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cottonstones/pseuds/Cottonstones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Alright, hold on to me," Spencer says before he lets go of Brendon's wrists. Brendon instantly misses the feeling of being pinned to the wall, of feeling the warm weight of Spencer's body pressing in against him, but he's happy to oblige if it means that he'll get laid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep When I'm Dead

Brendon is tired from the show. He always is. He expels most of the pent-up energy that he collects throughout the day – during the times when he has to sit patient and still. He releases all of the energy burning up through his body on stage, giving it all to the fans, pushing it on to them in waves as he dances and screams and sings.

After the show, he’s drained. Once the adrenaline wears off he can barely make it through the post-show shower still standing. Most times he winds up slumped against the shower wall. After he’s gotten himself dressed, he finds Spencer in the kitchenette, poking around in the miniature fridge. Brendon sighs deeply before he goes to Spencer, padding with bare feet through the sticky tile of the kitchenette floor and coming to rest his head between Spencer’s shoulder blades.

Spencer stands straight and firm so that he can support Brendon’s weight. Brendon rubs his cheek against Spencer’s t-shirt-covered back. Spencer’s body is almost always warm and dry and soft. He smells good, not like cologne or soap, just something good.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asks. He doesn’t sound annoyed, just sort of fond. Spencer’s voice has a warm curl to it when he’s amused. Brendon just breathes in Spencer’s shirt and hums a response.

He finally settles on, “I’m tired,” when Spencer doesn’t keep talking. They’re just standing there together in the kitchenette. The fridge is still open and it causes little pulses of cold air to whirl around their legs and ankles, contrasting sharply to the warmth radiating from Brendon pressing up against Spencer. It’s one of the few times that he enjoys their height difference. Spencer feels miles taller, studier when Brendon wants to sink and slope.

Brendon shivers slightly and Spencer reaches out to push the fridge closed before he turns to face him. He smiles. It’s just a small curve of his mouth. He touches the thick, black plastic of Brendon’s glasses, pushing them up his nose where they had been slipping. His hands move from Brendon’s glasses to the strands of shower-damp hair that have fallen into Brendon’s face.

Spencer’s callused hand opens against the side of Brendon’s face, cupping his jaw. Spencer’s thumb runs along Brendon’s jawbone, stroking lightly. Brendon is shivering again, but it has nothing to do with temperature.

Brendon rests his face against Spencer’s hand and lets his eyes fall closed, humming low in his throat when he feels Spencer’s other hand touch at his hip, slipping up under the loose fabric to pet at the skin above the line of his sweatpants. Brendon smiles against Spencer’s hand and opens his eyes so that he can see Spencer again. Spencer’s fingers wriggle under the waistband of Brendon’s sweatpants so that he can pet lower, stroking gently over Brendon’s hip.

Heat flares up inside of Brendon. It feels like the tip of a flame has ignited under Brendon’s skin, the starting point being where Spencer’s fingertips are pressing against old bruises left over from the last hotel night. The flame spreads through his veins, warming his body from the inside out. The hand on Brendon’s face shifts and creeps down so that Spencer is cupping his neck and his jaw. Spencer tips Brendon’s head back a little, his fingers sweeping over Brendon’s worn throat, grazing his Adam’s apple, right before he kisses Brendon.

The first thing that Brendon registers is the rasp of Spencer’s beard prickling against his cheek. It’s a perfect contrast to Spencer’s soft mouth meeting his in a sweet kiss. Spencer is a fantastic kisser. That’s something Brendon’s always appreciated about Spencer – well, there’s a lot of things that he appreciates about Spencer, but the way Spencer kisses definitely ranks high on the list.

Brendon moves his arms and slides his hands up Spencer’s back, touching the backs of his shoulders. Brendon presses up into the kiss, bumping his nose with Spencer’s and sliding their lips together – sloppily, because Brendon is leaning up on his tippy toes just so he can reach Spencer’s mouth. Brendon eventually loses his balance. He’s always loose on his feet post-show, his legs feeling like jelly and his ankle still far from functioning perfectly, and he and Spencer fall backwards until Brendon backs them up against the wall next to the cupboard.

Brendon lets out a little “oof” and Spencer snorts against Brendon’s mouth. “I’m tired, Spencer. What do you want from me?” Brendon asks, smiling. He tips his head forward so that his forehead is resting against Spencer’s shoulder. He turns his head so that he can kiss the base of Spencer’s neck. He feels a slight tremor run through Spencer’s body as Spencer’s hands slip from Brendon’s hips to his arms, pulling them away from his body and wrapping his fingers around Brendon’s wrists, squeezing a little.

“Maybe,” Spencer says. He slowly lifts Brendon’s arms up until they’re stretched over his head. “Maybe I should take you to bed, since you’re so tired.” Each word is drawn out so sinfully slow and deep that Brendon’s body thrums with arousal before he even knows what’s happening. Spencer has him pinned to the wall. Brendon’s hips maybe roll forward a little on their own accord.

“You can’t use your sex voice on me when I’m tired,” Brendon says. “I wanted to sleep.” His voice comes out muffled because his mouth is still pressed to Spencer’s neck. Spencer squeezes Brendon’s wrists again.

“And now?” Spencer asks. His voice is still deep and dripping with sex appeal.

“Now I think you’re an asshole,” Brendon says, spreading his legs a bit to allow one of Spencer’s legs to slip between them. Spencer starts rubbing his leg against Brendon’s crotch. He’s still dressed in his outfit from before the show – t-shirt and jeans. Brendon is kind of glad because the denim makes for more friction. He lets out an embarrassing whine, his throat still rough from the show. “I’m wondering if I can manage to fit both into my schedule.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes, a man has got to ask himself the tough questions. ‘What’s more important to me? Sex or sleep?’” Spencer kisses Brendon again, firmer this time. Brendon is used to forking over control to Spencer. It’s not an issue of which of them is more dominate, it’s just that Brendon trusts Spencer so easily that it happens that way naturally.

Spencer breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against Brendon’s, his arms still above his head. “Did you decide?” he asks, smiling. Brendon rubs his nose against Spencer’s.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead. You should fuck me, preferably now.”

“Preferably not against the kitchen wall. Ian makes his Poptarts here, man.”

“If you keep talking about Ian, I am going to choose sleep,” Brendon says around an obnoxious faux yawn that quickly turns into a real one.

“Alright, hold on to me,” Spencer says before he lets go of Brendon’s wrists. Brendon instantly misses the feeling of being pinned to the wall, of feeling the warm weight of Spencer’s body pressing in against him, but he’s happy to oblige if it means that he’ll get laid. He loops his arms around Spencer’s neck, lacing his fingers together. Spencer presses them against the wall and uses the leverage to lift Brendon’s bottom half up. Brendon quickly wraps his legs around Spencer’s waist.

Spencer moves them away from the wall and towards the lounge. Brendon takes back everything he ever thought about not liking Spencer’s height – it’s awesome. He kisses Spencer to show his thanks, but Spencer won’t let him deepen the kiss, breaking away to laugh. “I can’t see when you kiss me. I’ll crash us into the wall.”

“So worth the risk,” Brendon says, going for Spencer’s mouth once again. He tangles his fingers in the hair at the back of Spencer’s neck, stroking the spot where hair gives way to skin. Spencer shivers again and groans against Brendon’s mouth. Brendon smiles into the kiss. He loves pressing all of Spencer’s buttons – and one of those buttons is definitely the back of his neck.

They reach the couch in the back of the lounge. Spencer tightens his grip on Brendon, which makes Brendon tighten in return so that he doesn’t fall when Spencer deposits him on to the couch. Brendon stretches out on his back on the couch while Spencer straightens up. “I’m going to go grab the lube from your bunk. Try not to fall asleep while I’m gone.”

“No promises,” Brendon warns him.

Spencer hurries out of the room and Brendon lets his eyes close. He can still hear Spencer moving near the bunks, trying not to wake up Dallon and Ian. His body feels heavy – he couldn’t move right now even if he wanted to. His head buzzes slightly with the calm peace that being near sleep brings him. He might doze off just a little while Spencer is gone, but he wakes up when Spencer comes back and says cautiously, “Brendon?”

“’M’awake,” Brendon slurs, shifting a little to prove his point.

“Do you still want to – ?” Spencer starts. Brendon hasn’t opened his eyes yet, but he feels Spencer sit near his feet.

Brendon cracks an eye open. “Yeah, I do. Come on, let’s do it.”

Brendon can feel Spencer shifting before settling over him, a firm weight. He loves being pressed down by Spencer and covered by his body, more solid than Brendon’s own. Brendon watches with sleepy eyes as Spencer leans in and noses at his cheek before kissing him. It’s slow at first, just a press of their mouths together, but Brendon opens up for him quickly. Spencer deepens the kiss, his tongue dipping inside. Brendon sucks at his tongue – another one of those things that really drives Spencer wild – and he’s rewarded by Spencer’s hips pressing down sharply against his own.

“Come on, Spencer,” Brendon mumbles once they break their kiss.

“Shit, okay, Bren,” Spencer says before he fumbles around the floor for the bottle of lube. Spencer sets the bottle between Brendon’s legs so that he can feel it pressing against his cock. He should be more embarrassed about rolling his hips against it to gain some friction, but it feels too good to care. Spencer is over him again, kissing him. He sometimes kisses like it’s their first time. Brendon likes that their millionth kiss can feel like the first.

“How about you undress yourself?” Spencer suggests against Brendon’s mouth.

Brendon sighs. “How about you undress me?”

“You really are tired, aren’t you?” Spencer asks, his voice sounding fond again. He pets his fingers through Brendon’s hair. “Don’t wear yourself out too fast, Brendon.”

“It’s nothing the next hotel night can’t fix.”

Spencer kisses Brendon’s mouth, then his jaw, and then finally his neck, ghosting over his Adam’s apple. “Then let me do all the work. You just relax,” Spencer tells him. Brendon nods and melts into the couch. Spencer sits back, his hands on Brendon’s hips, and starts to ease down Brendon’s pants. Brendon doesn’t feel like moving, but he needs to help Spencer somewhat, at least, so he raises his hips so that Spencer is able to slide down the sweatpants, tugging them off Brendon’s legs. He isn’t wearing underwear – clean underwear is a rarity on the road and they haven’t had time to do a laundry drop-off or buy any new pairs.

Spencer strips him of his shirt next. “You still have too many clothes on,” Brendon points out. He’s sitting completely naked on the couch and Spencer is still clothed.

“I’m working on it,” Spencer says before he tugs his t-shirt over his head. Brendon lies back on the couch and takes off his glasses. Spencer is drawing near him again, looking over him like he’s seeing him for the first time, eyes darkening. Brendon reaches out to brush his fingers across Spencer’s sculpted shoulders, tracing the smattering of freckles.

Spencer leans in and kisses Brendon’s chest, some of his hair falling to brush against Brendon’s skin. Spencer kisses a damp path down Brendon’s chest. His tongue flickers out to brush over Brendon’s nipples before he pulls back to blow cool air over them. Brendon gasps and his nipples harden into peaks, his fingers digging into Spencer’s skin a little. Spencer drops lower and kisses Brendon’s stomach as he reaches down for the lube, the back of his hand brushing the underside of Brendon’s dick.

Brendon’s cock jerks at the first sign of attention. Spencer isn’t really dragging it out, but Brendon is turned on and way too comfortable and warm on the couch. No matter how much he wants to get fucked tonight, he knows that his body is more likely to fall asleep if Spencer doesn’t hurry and get his fingers inside of him. Brendon opens his mouth to point this out to Spencer, but he moans instead because apparently Spencer is all set, his fingers already slicked and rubbing over Brendon’s hole.

Brendon grunts and Spencer pulls back to push Brendon’s thighs apart. Brendon lets his leg fall off the side of the couch, his legs splayed wide and his bad ankle tucked safely on the other side of Spencer. Brendon shivers with anticipation. He lets his eyes fall closed, partially because he’s exhausted and partially because he likes the thrill of not knowing when Spencer will touch him. He jumps when Spencer’s fingers brush up his inner thigh, leaving damp trails behind. Spencer’s touch is light, just a tease, making the muscles in Brendon’s thighs flexing under his fingers.

Spencer doesn’t leave him waiting long, but Brendon still gasps in surprise when Spencer slips a finger inside. He opens his eyes and presses back on instinct, groaning quietly as Spencer’s finger slides deeper into him. Brendon’s hips roll a little as Spencer’s other hand presses down on Brendon’s hip, stilling him. If they had more time and Brendon could be as loud as he wanted, he’d let Spencer finger him for hours. He loves Spencer’s fingers and the calluses on his fingertips that come from being a musician. On more than one occasion, when there’s no time and no showering between leaving the show and boarding the bus, Brendon will slip into Spencer’s bunk and ask Spencer to finger him – just to calm him down and get him to sleep. It feels amazing with three of Spencer’s fingers inside of him, fucking insistent and deep.

Spencer adds a second finger, stretching Brendon out. It doesn’t really hurt. Brendon already feels so loose and liquid and familiar with the practice of being open around Spencer’s dick that two fingers really doesn’t feel like much. Spencer presses up, though. He finds Brendon’s prostate and rubs over it. Brendon’s body rocks up despite Spencer’s hand holding him down and a groan escapes him, rumbling deep from his chest and out into the open. If Dallon and Ian aren’t quite asleep just yet, then there’s really no mystery as to what Brendon and Spencer are doing back here.

“Do you need another?” Spencer asks. His voice is tight with arousal. Brendon debates – three would make him loose, would make it easy, but Brendon does like when he’s not completely open, when there’s still resistance and he can feel Spencer’s cock stretching him.

“No, no. You can – I’m ready, Spence.”

Spencer nods but doesn’t pull out right away. Spencer presses deeper, brushing insistently over Brendon’s prostate. The move has Brendon bucking, his body fighting the warm blanket of sleep and sparking like a wire, alert and strung tight. He arches against Spencer, heat flooding him – he’s so fucking ready for Spencer’s cock that he doesn’t think that he can wait for one more minute without being filled up.

“Spencer,” Brendon chokes. He pushes against Spencer’s hand, the one holding down his hip. He brings the leg that was dangling off the couch and digs the heel of it into the back of Spencer’s calf. Brendon is so hard that he could come right now with just Spencer’s fingers inside of him, insistently brushing his prostate. He wants to hold on, but the thought that he could come from just this is making his stomach roll with want. He strokes himself a little, smearing pre-come across his palm, his arm feeling heavy. “Come on.”

Spencer finally gives in. He removes his fingers and, even though Brendon wants Spencer’s cock, Brendon still mourns the loss of his fingers in his ass. He hates the feeling of sudden emptiness. Brendon doesn’t know when his eyes drooped closed, but he opens them to see Spencer standing next to the couch, sliding his jeans down his hips. Brendon smiles lazily and watches as Spencer gets naked, curling sure fingers around his hard cock and stroking himself slowly.

Once Spencer is naked, he moves next to Brendon’s head so that Spencer’s cock is bobbing hard and purpling just above Brendon’s face. “You want to get me slick?” Spencer asks, arching an eyebrow at Brendon. They use condoms a majority of the time, but this happened quick and Brendon wants it now – he doesn’t want to deal with technicalities like condoms. It’s stupid, but they’re both clean and they’ve been fucking no one but each other for months now, so it’s not quite as stupid as it could be.

Brendon doesn’t want to move, but he still rolls his head off the side of the couch. Spencer shifts until his cock is brushing Brendon’s cheek. The tip of Spencer’s cock is wet and slides against Brendon’s cheek, leaving a sticky trail behind. Brendon opens his mouth and Spencer closes his hand around the base of his cock. He guides himself to Brendon's mouth; his cock runs over Brendon’s bottom lip. He sticks out his tongue and grazes the tip of Spencer’s dick.

Spencer groans. Brendon tries to open his mouth wider, inviting Spencer to press his cock inside. Spencer takes initiative and urges his cock into Brendon’s mouth. The angle is weird and Brendon is sapped of energy, so he’s not as enthusiastic as he normally would be with Spencer in his mouth. They still make it work, though. Spencer knows the boundaries, how much Brendon can take, how far to go. The way Brendon is laying leaves his throat open and easy for Spencer to slide into. He presses in once all the way, the head of his cock brushing the back of Brendon’s throat. Spencer hisses and Brendon moans around his cock.

They create a rhythm. Spencer’s hips work his cock further down Brendon’s throat. The sounds they’re making are loud and jarring to Brendon, the wet slip of Spencer’s dick between his lips making everything sound so much filthier than it is. Spencer’s balls are pressed against Brendon’s cheek, so Brendon brings a hand up to touch, rolling the heavy weight between his fingers. Spencer grunts loud and surprised, bucking like Brendon caught him off-guard. He slips from Brendon’s mouth and Brendon wipes his lips with the back of his hand, his mouth still tasting like Spencer. He remembers what the weight of his cock felt like.

“Why’d you stop?” Brendon asks.

“I’m supposed to fuck you, remember?” Spencer laughs breathlessly. His hand is still wrapped around his dick. “If I let you keep that up, I would’ve come on the spot.”

“So you’ll fuck me now, then?” Brendon asks hopefully. His head is still hanging off the couch at an awkward angle. Brendon presses his hips up, his dick bouncing hard against his stomach. Spencer’s eyes travel over Brendon’s spread body. He nods once before he meets Brendon’s gaze. Spencer’s eyes are so dark, so filled with want and oh fuck; Brendon cannot wait to have him inside.

Spencer strokes himself as he moves back to the couch before settling between Brendon’s open legs. Spencer runs his fingers lightly up Brendon’s legs, tracing the inside of Brendon’s thighs. Brendon presses his body up, twitching with want. The tickle of Spencer’s hands are soothing, though, and while Brendon wants to be fucked, he also sort of wants Spencer to cover him with his body and run his hands over Brendon’s skin until he falls asleep.

Spencer spreads his hands open over Brendon’s thighs and pushes them further apart, the sore muscles in Brendon’s legs straining. He still feels like jelly from the show and it’s so easy for Spencer to curl his hands around the backs of Brendon’s thighs and haul him closer, bending him a little so that he has better access to Brendon’s ass.

Brendon reaches out and smoothes a hand up Spencer’s thigh. “Come on,” he says. “I don’t want to wait anymore unless you want me to fall asleep during sex.”

“What’s the rule there?” Spencer asks as he leans over Brendon, hands planted on either side of Brendon’s head. He leans down and kisses Brendon. “Do I have permission to finish if you do?”

Brendon knows that Spencer is kidding – he really doesn’t think Spencer would keep going if he fell asleep – but the thought that he could keep fucking him fast asleep makes Brendon that much harder. Spencer is kidding, but Brendon still gives him an answer.

“I’d let you.”

Spencer breaks their kiss and arches an eyebrow. His eyes flicker with something, maybe a question or surprise – or something else entirely, a conversation for another day. Brendon pulls Spencer back down and kisses him hard and dirty. “Fuck me,” Brendon murmurs against Spencer’s mouth.

Spencer nods and shifts and then Brendon can feel the blunt press of Spencer’s cock against his hole. He’s not as slick as he would be if they used lube, but Brendon feels relaxed and pliant and it isn’t hard for Spencer to begin to slip inside. The backs of Brendon’s thighs are pressed up against the front of Spencer’s, his calves against Spencer’s chest, his legs hooked over Spencer’s shoulders.

When Spencer leans forward, Brendon’s body bends. He gasps a little at the shift in angle. Spencer slides in easier now, burying himself inside of Brendon. Brendon grabs loosely at the fabric of the couch, his eyes fluttering. He doesn’t want to let his eyes droop closed. He’s afraid that if he gives his body an inch, it’ll take a mile. He doesn’t want to fall asleep before all of the really good stuff starts happening.

Spencer doesn’t move. He stills inside of Brendon, letting him adjust even though Brendon doesn’t need it. When he can’t wait any longer, he pulls out almost all the way and then sinks back in. They’re going slow enough that Brendon can feel the burn of pleasure weave around him like cords running up his thighs and knotting in his stomach before they stretch all along his tired bones and sleepy skin.

He’s getting fucked so slow and full and Brendon lets it happen. He just lies there on the couch and lets Spencer do all the work. He doesn’t have the energy to be any more of a showman tonight. He expelled the personality out on stage and now he’s content to lie there and let Spencer fuck into him. His speed is picking up faster and deeper, his firm, drum-rough hands squeezing Brendon’s thighs.

A thought enters Brendon’s head unbidden. He lays there, letting wave after wave of white-hot pleasure pulse through him. Spencer fucks him deep and slow but hard enough that Brendon’s body rocks against the couch with every thrust. It’s clear that Spencer is controlling the situation – something about that fact makes Brendon’s cock ache where it’s trapped between his thighs.

Spencer isn’t using him, but Brendon likes the thought of him just being there, something for Spencer to use as he likes. Brendon runs his fingers over his chest, brushing a thumb over his nipple and gasping – he’s been making sounds all along and this is just another noise to join the cacophony. Brendon wraps his hand around his cock. His hand is too dry, but he’s so hard that he doesn’t even have to do that much work. The way Spencer is fucking him now moves Brendon’s body for him. He just curls his hand around his cock and lets Spencer be his rhythm. The thought comes back to him, rushing in like water: Spencer using Brendon’s body, Spencer manipulating him into the way he wants him to be.

It’s nothing they’ve ever done before. They’ve tried a lot of things but they talk about it beforehand. This is something new, something burning its way bright through Brendon’s stomach and into his groin. He thumbs the head of his cock and bites his lip. It’s exciting and he almost, almost, wants to fall asleep now. He wants to know that, even while he’s asleep, Spencer is fucking him.

“Spencer, fuck,” Brendon whines. Spencer leans down to meet him again. Brendon’s body bends nearly in half, which makes Spencer sink that much deeper, hitting Brendon’s prostate. Spencer’s hand searches out Brendon’s cock and knocks Brendon’s hand away, taking over the stroking on his own. In a way, Spencer is taking care of him, which helps Brendon relax even more. He sinks into the couch and lets Spencer kiss his throat.

He doesn’t mean to, but Brendon closes his eyes and, with his eyes closed, his mind whirls with sensation. Spencer is warm and heavy on top of him, his mouth moving in small, private trails around Brendon’s neck. The rocking of their bodies and all of the warm, slow movement is comforting. Though Brendon hadn’t anticipated it, he drifts off before he can stop himself. It isn’t for long – at least, he doesn’t think so. He’s pulled out of his small lapse in conscious by a rough groan from Spencer.

Brendon opens his eyes to a bright light. His eyes feel heavy and all he wants to do is close them again and drift, pleasant and warm and so fucking turned on. He looks at Spencer, who kisses him hungrily, biting his bottom lip a little. Brendon moans – that’s a thing for him, the edge of pain laced within the pleasure.

“You’re still with me?” Spencer breathes into Brendon’s ear.

Brendon nods. “Yeah,” he grits out.

“I felt you go lax,” Spencer says after a moment. He’s still fucking him, but he’s slowed down. He’s rolling his hips in tiny thrusts, rocking into Brendon. He’s watching Brendon’s face, touching his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” Brendon says. He has the grace to look sheepish. “I told you that I was tired.”

“I’m not offended. It was – I felt your whole body relax with me inside of you. You were just so open and still. It’s not – you’re never like that. I liked it,” Spencer admits. Now he’s the one looking sheepish.

“You did?” Brendon’s body is buzzing, the intensity building. Spencer had sounded so awed when he talked about Brendon being asleep during that moment. Spencer nods and kisses Brendon again.

“I kept going,” Spencer says. “I fucked into you harder and faster and your body…you just took it and you didn’t wake up.”

“Fuck,” Brendon moans, touching himself again.

“You liked it, too” Spencer says – it isn’t a question. He knows it by the way that Brendon is stroking himself. Brendon nods and keeps jerking himself off, smashed between the couch and Spencer’s body. Spencer keeps fucking him. “Your face was so peaceful. You were so pretty and still as I fucked you. God, it was amazing.” Brendon moans. He’s so close. Spencer presses his mouth against Brendon’s ear. He keeps talking, every word pushing Brendon closer to the edge. “You know, we could do that some other time. We could do it if you wanted. Whenever you wanted to try, we could.”

He can’t take any more – Spencer’s voice and his own hand on his cock and Spencer fucking him. He needs to come. Spencer keeps going and it’s so much, but Brendon still wants more. He wants as much as his body can handle. When he does come, it’s sudden and intense. Brendon sees stars and then darkness; the last thing he feels before he’s out is the feeling of Spencer coming inside of him.

When Brendon wakes up, he feels completely recharged, if a little sore. He’s in his bunk instead of the lounge and, when he flops his arm out, he hits something warm and solid next to him. Brendon rolls onto his side carefully – his ankle is aching to remind him of how stupid he is. Spencer is tucked in his bunk next to him. Seeing Spencer stretched out and blissfully asleep knocks all of the memories of last night back into his head. His dick throbs, but Brendon doesn’t let himself get worked up. They don’t have time to fool around this morning.

Brendon noses at Spencer’s temple and kisses his scruffy cheek. Spencer grumbles and rolls on to his back, reaching a hand out to find Brendon’s shoulder. “Good morning,” Brendon whispers, kissing Spencer’s mouth.

“Hey,” Spencer says around a yawn.

“I must’ve fallen asleep, huh?” Brendon asks. He’s a little nervous to broach the subject, like maybe it was just some kind of dream or something that happened in the heat of the moment. Spencer blinks a few times and slides his hand down Brendon’s back.

“Yeah, you did. Right after you came, too.”

“You took care of me. My hero.” Brendon bats his lashes at Spencer and kisses him again, soft and wet. Spencer smiles against his mouth.

“Of course. I couldn’t leave you busted up and naked in the back lounge with come dripping out of your ass. That wouldn’t be polite to the others.”

“How considerate of you.” Brendon folds his arms on Spencer’s chest and rests his chin atop his folded hands. Spencer reaches out to brush away a strand of Brendon’s dirty hair. “So,” he attempts, trying to find a way to talk about last night without making the situation weird. “Did we discover a new dynamic last night?”

Spencer laughs a little. Brendon feels it vibrate right from his fingertips up into his face. “I was going to ask you the same question,” he explains. “I don’t know, though. Did you enjoy it?”

“Did you?” Brendon asks instead of giving up his own answer. He’s wary to voice just how much he enjoyed the night before.

“I asked you first, idiot,” Spencer says. He’s clearly amused. The fingers that had been playing in Brendon’s hair move to cup his cheek. “I liked it.”

“So did I,” Brendon says. Things like this are never a huge deal with Spencer. He’s blunt to a fault, but Brendon likes that. If he didn’t like something or wasn’t into the idea of something for them to do in the bedroom, he knows that he wouldn’t agree to it just for Brendon’s sake.

“So maybe this is something we can do again? Maybe on our next hotel night? You know, somewhere more freeing.” Spencer waves a hand around vaguely. Brendon snorts.

“I’d like that.” Brendon worms his body closer to Spencer’s, gingerly maneuvering his ankle. “Do you think we’ll have time to get in a few more hours of sleep before we have to start our day?”

Spencer cups the back of Brendon’s shoulder. “Well, I see no problem in trying.”


End file.
